


Of Tieflings and Men

by Kale-y (PechoraFlow)



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Androids are Tieflings, Canonical Character Death, Connor & CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60 & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Siblings, Connor & CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60 are Twins, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Whump, CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60 Has a Different Name, D&D AU, Gen, Good Dog Sumo (Detroit: Become Human), Good Parent Hank Anderson, Hank Anderson & Connor Parent-Child Relationship, I always put the graphic depictions of violence warning, I never know when im going to stab someone in the eye, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, Kinda, Medical Inaccuracies, Mentioned Cole Anderson, Misunderstandings, Most characters will make some sort of appearance, Near Death Experiences, Paladins, Poison, Selectively Mute Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Tieflings, Touch-Starved Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Upgraded Connor | RK900 Has a Different Name, but its fine and magic shhhhh, every character in this needs a hug, just cause you never know when im going to stab someone in the eye, no beta we die like that part of my soul that used to have hopes for my future, oh whoops typo, technically
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:48:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29636952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PechoraFlow/pseuds/Kale-y
Summary: Jericho, home of the tieflings, declares war on the human kingdom of Ravaryn once they find out that the humans kidnapped one of their own. They plan on rescuing him, no matter who gets in the way.Little do they know that Connor, Hank's paladin-in-training, is the one they seek, and he distinctly remembers being kidnapped bytieflings, not humans.---“He’s a liar!” Connor yelled. He fussed with his breastplate before ripping it off, throwing it against the wall. “He’s aliar!”“Connor, calm the fuck down,” Hank ordered. He grabbed Connor by the shoulders and looked him in the eye. “Get a hold of yourself. You can't do this. If you let your emotions get out of control, you’re gonna out yourself on accident with your magic, okay?”Connor was breathing hard, the rage coursing through his veins. His skin was flushed blue, and his hands trembled with suppressed frustration. In a moment, Connor's anger wilted. He let out a distressed sound and put a hand up to his eyes, hiding them as tears started to line his eyelids.“It’s okay,” Hank said, wrapping his arms around the tiefling.“I don’t want to go back,” Connor hiccuped.
Relationships: Connor & CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60 & Upgraded Connor | RK900, Connor & Detroit Police Department Officers (Detroit: Become Human), Connor & Jericho Members (Detroit: Become Human), Connor & Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Hank Anderson & Connor
Comments: 14
Kudos: 20
Collections: DBH AU Big Bang 2020





	Of Tieflings and Men

**Author's Note:**

> I've literally been waiting almost a half of a year to post this!!! Yay!!!
> 
> AND THE ART. OH MY WORD THE ART YOU GUYS. GO APPRECIATE HER.  
> Instagram: @anouillh  
> Twitter: @anouiilh  
> DeviantArt: @ebenesloth
> 
> ALSO. The RK Bros have different names from usual! In D&D lore, Tieflings can take virtue names. So, to avoid any confusion:
> 
> Nines - Noble  
> Sixty - Steadfast  
> Connor - Candor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALSO: ART. LOOK. IS SO PRETTY. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

The siege had lasted a full week already.

Seven days of fallen compatriots, seven days of injuries, seven days of darkness.

Hank hadn’t fought this hard since the conflict with the orcs however many years ago. There had been thousands of them, and they had almost been overwhelmed by the sheer aggression that they showed in battle. In the end, they had barely won, but many of their own hadn’t made it back from the fight - among them was his son, just sixteen at the time. Barely old enough to pick up a sword-

But this siege was one they could not win. Sure, there were some talented warlocks in the human race, but magic was in the DNA of every tiefling. Even if they managed to hold them back, the enemy could block out the sun for months. The whole kingdom would starve.

But they were human; they fought anyway.

The door to Hank’s small home was haphazardly thrown open, and in stumbled its tenants - Hank, supported by his paladin-in-training, Connor. The two of them wore armor that was dingy and scratched from fighting - though they weren’t going to complain when it had saved them on numerous occasions over the past few days.

They both stumbled into the room, their mastiff wandering over to greet them.

Hank rubbed the giant dog’s head. “Hey Sumo. Good boy.”

Connor sank into a chair next to the unlit fireplace and just about ripped his helmet off. He put his head in his hands, massaging his temples almost forcefully.

“You can drop it when we’re at home, you know,” Hank said.

Connor nodded, and a moment later, his face changed. His eyes turned that black and blue color, and his forehead thickened. On his temples appeared two stumps where his horns used to be, before some trafficker cut them off for whatever purpose.

“They hurting again?” Hank asked, already making his way over to the cupboard, where a flat stone sat, waiting to be used.

Connor mumbled an affirmative from where he sat, his expression pinched and tense.

Hank moved back over, blowing on the stone and using a small spell to cool the stone. He was so tired from fighting, even _that_ took energy. “Which one?"

“Left,” Connor said.

Gently, Hank moved Connor’s hand away from his left temple and pressed the cool stone to the spot instead. The tiefling let out a small noise of relief and leaned into the touch, closing his eyes.

“You get injured?” Hank asked.

“No,” Connor said.

“That’s good,” Hank said. “Here, take the rock.”

Connor opened one eye skeptically, but took the stone from Hank and kept it against his forehead. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Hank said, moving back over to the cupboard.

Connor had just drawn water this morning, and what was left was sitting on a nearby counter. Hank took off his own helmet and shook out his hair, which had long since fallen out of the braid he had done quickly that morning. (Though, it did stay pinned back for longer that way, as Connor had suggested it would. Maybe he would let the kid do his hair more often.)

Over by the unlit fireplace, Connor was still watching him, skepticism turning to concern. “You’re bleeding.”

“Yep.”

Hank grabbed an old scrap of fabric from the cupboard and shoved it into the water, then pulled it up and twisted it to get rid of the excess liquid. He dabbed it against where the pain was coming from and winced.

He caught sight of Connor’s look and rolled his eyes. “You shush.”

“I didn’t say anything."

“I’ll heal myself later. I’m fuckin’ _exhausted._ I just need to get the blood off and tie it up, and I’ll be good to go.”

“I can do it.”

Hank’s deadpan look eased and allowed some of his compassion to shine through. “Con’, you’re dealing with your own injuries right now. You just take your time. And besides, you usually help me out - I think I can handle myself this once.”

Connor nodded, but said nothing, deflating slightly and looking at the floor. “I...wish I could be more help. Until I decide which oath I want to take, I... I’m kind of useless.”

Hank said nothing, processing what Connor had just said. Paladin oaths were lifelong and powerful, granting the paladin powers in line with their oath, so long as the tenets of the oath were kept. Breaking an oath was akin to bringing a curse onto oneself. Connor knew this better than most, having seen Hank when he was living as an oathbreaker. Only with Connor’s help had he regained his honor and status, receiving grace and starting anew again, this time with Connor at his side.

He didn’t know what had made Connor decide he wanted to be a paladin, too. Perhaps it was just because he wanted to keep an eye on Hank. Or, more likely, he wanted to know every possible way to defend himself. The path of the paladin required knowledge of and proficiency with almost every weapon in existence. It was challenging, but also rewarding and useful. Hank couldn’t even count how many scrapes he wouldn’t have been able to get out of if not for his vast array of weapons knowledge.

Yes, it was true that tiefling magic wasn’t usually all warm-and-fuzzy, but there were plenty of peaceful tieflings out there who helped all those they could. They had thought Jericho was a city full of those peaceful tieflings - there was even talk about a peace treaty and trade between them.

Everything kind of went out the window when they attacked.

A moment later, Hank huffed and grabbed the bucket and rag, then moved over to Connor and sat down on the floor in front of him, shoving the wet cloth into the kid’s hands. “I can’t see what I’m doing,” Hank said shortly.

“Oh,” Connor said. “I’ll be gentle.”

Connor was just finishing with the bandage when a knock came at the door. Sumo barked once, then froze in place, pointing at the door and growling.

Hank stood up, grimacing at the protests from his battered body. “Who’s there?”

“It’s Chris!”

Hank made a gesture at Sumo, who obeyed and sat down. The dog kept his eyes on the door, however, ready to attack if Hank gave the order.

The paladin made his way over to the front door, but before he opened it, he glanced back at Connor. The kid had set aside the rock - probably wasn’t cold by now, anyway. His eyes were back to the brown and white that was common with humans, and all evidence of his horns was gone.

Satisfied, Hank opened the door, and sure enough, Chris stood on his doorstep, as battered as the other paladins and soldiers of the city. “The paladins have been requested by the queen.”

Hank frowned. “All of us? In the middle of a war?”

“The tieflings have halted their attack,” Chris said, shrugging incredulously. “Their leader just surrendered himself this morning. He calls himself 'Markus', and says he wants to solve this ‘diplomatically’.”

* * *

Many paladins journeyed across the countryside, living up to their oath, whether it be through grace or through justice. However, some paladins took smaller journeys and were more anchored to one city.

This was the case for the human kingdom of Ravaryn, which had four full-fledged paladins in its walls, plus the one paladin-in-training. These five were given ceremonial armor, to be worn in the queen’s presence. It wasn’t practical, but it showed off the patron deity of the individual paladin, as well as their own feats of bravery and their oaths.

As soon as Connor and Hank had donned the appropriate armor, they set out for the castle.

The walk was long, but at least the ceremonial armor was lighter than the regular stuff. They didn’t have to carry as many weapons, either. (Though, every paladin always had at least four different weapons and fighting styles locked and loaded at all times.) Their helmets also shielded them from having to conceal their facial expressions in front of nobility, and in Connor’s case, it kept his blue blush from being noticed. He could conceal his horns and change his eye color, but concealing a blush would be like trying to conceal an arm - it would require too much focus to be done all the time, and its absence would be noticeable. It would be better to just wear a helmet in strenuous situations.

Together, they walked into the queen’s throne room. Hank’s eyes found the green-cloaked form of Gavin and went to stand next to him, as tradition had dictated.

“Asshole,” Hank greeted cordially.

“Dick,” Gavin returned.

“Hello, Tina,” Connor said.

Tina simply nodded.

 _“Behave_ ," Fowler chastised from where he stood nearby. Though not technically a paladin, he matched them in weapons prowess as the Captain of the Guard. Plus, in wartime, he was their acting commander. It made sense for him to be standing with them, equally decorated and honored (perhaps slightly more so).

Hank wanted to ask about the tiefling forces - after all, Fowler, Gavin, and Tina had been the ones on duty when it happened - but the large doors to the side of the throne room opened. _“Presenting Her Royal Highness, Queen Cristina IV!”_

The court hushed as the queen entered, wearing ceremonial armor that was similarly decadent and useless except as a statement of wealth and power. She walked with strength and purpose, her robes sweeping out behind her. Then, she sat on the throne, as tense as the rest of her court.

“Bring him in,” she said, her terse voice carrying across the room.

Out of the corner of his eye, Hank noticed how stiff Connor’s posture was; if not for the almost imperceptible rise and fall of his shoulders, he would have thought that his trainee wasn’t breathing. In any other situation, he would lay a comforting hand on his shoulder, but doing so in here would only draw attention to them. That was the _last thing_ they needed.

The large doors to the throne room opened with a heavy _boom,_ and in walked the tiefling leader himself. His skin was a greyish purple, and he had a pair of ridged horns extending from his hairline backwards. They curled down in a spiral, like an upside-down battle horn from a yak. His eyes were different colors - one green, one blue, both so bright they glowed on his cheeks - and his pupils were slit, like a cat’s. He wore a long coat and loose-fitting clothing, but his hair was short and precisely maintained. The coat concealed his tail (probably a conscious decision) but otherwise, he was obviously a tiefling - though, he certainly didn’t dress like he was their leader. He was escorted to the middle of the room by two soldiers, who stayed by him to keep watch.

The massive doors swung shut.

The noise rang through the halls for a few moments, but when it began to fade, the queen spoke. “You identified yourself as Markus, correct?”

“That is right,” Markus said. His voice was soft, but not in volume. Though his tone was gentle, it filled the space well. Hank wondered if he was using a spell to amplify his volume. “I came to your gates, unarmed, in the hopes that you would hear what I have to say. If you choose to help me, we can end this war between our people before more blood is shed.”

The queen watched him carefully, but gestured for him to continue.

“A few years ago, one of our own was taken from us,” Markus said. “His two brothers woke in the middle of the night to find him gone. They organized searches for weeks, but we found nothing. We had assumed that he had run away on his own, or that he had been taken far away, and that we would never find him again.

"But his brothers did not cease their search. They set out on their own, determined to find him. They came back a few weeks ago with news. They said that they had found out what had happened to their brother; that he was captured by humans and sold, and that his horns had been removed.”

Hank blinked, reeling from the news. He glanced over at Connor, expecting to see a similar reaction, but instead, the tiefling’s fists were clenched at his sides.

“Naturally, when they found out we were in the middle of peace talks with your kingdom, they were furious,” Markus went on. “They wanted to lead an immediate invasion."

“You believe this...missing tiefling is here?” the queen clarified.

Markus nodded. “They found his horns in the possession of one of your people. From there, they tracked down the seller, and she said that he had been sold here.”

Hank was half-afraid Connor would start yelling then and there. He certainly had the justification for it, but he wouldn’t give himself away, not after all this time.

“I wanted to search for him _with_ your people,” Markus said. “I thought saving him could be something that united our two kingdoms. But the brothers couldn’t wait. They recruited a large number of my people and convinced them to launch an attack - with the help of my general, I’m afraid.”

For a moment, the queen stayed silent, contemplating everything she had just been told. Making a decision, she spoke. “Your visit is meaningless,” the queen said, drawing herself to her full height. “If your forces are out for vengeance, then nothing will get this war to end except spilled blood. There is no negotiating with mad men. And even if we found this missing tiefling of yours, your people would think we were holding him hostage.”

“No,” Markus said, his calm mask of persuasion failing to hide a taste of his desperation. “No, you don’t know my people. They would lay down their arms-”

“I see why they chose you as their leader, Markus,” the queen interrupted. “You are an optimist. Unfortunately for you, that is also why they went to war without you. Take him away.”

“No- wait, _please-”_ Markus tried, but the guards simply grabbed his arms and forced him to turn around, hauling him out of the throne room. “They are sacrificing my people for the sake of one life, _don’t make the same mistake-!”_

The doors shut.

The throne room echoed with silence.

* * *

After a brief meeting with the other paladins and the queen, during which Connor said nothing, the two of them headed home, their minds racing but their voices quiet.

It wasn’t until the door to Hank’s home was shut behind them that Connor ripped off his helmet and threw it across the room. It clattered on the stone floor, startling Sumo from his nap.

“He’s a _liar!”_ Connor yelled. He forcefully fussed with his breastplate before ripping that off too, throwing it against the wall with as much force as he could muster. His human façade had dropped, and his blue eyes glowed so bright, they caused shadows to dance across the walls. “He’s a liar!”

“Connor, _calm the fuck down,”_ Hank ordered. He grabbed Connor by the shoulders and forced him to look him in the eye. “Get a hold of yourself. Yeah, he’s an asshole, and yeah, you have every reason to be angry, but you can't do this _._ If you let your emotions get out of control, you’re gonna out yourself on accident with your magic, okay?”

Connor was breathing hard, the rage coursing through his veins. His skin was flushed blue, and his hands trembled with suppressed frustration.

In a moment, his anger wilted and he crumpled. He let out a distressed sound and put a hand up to his eyes to hide them as tears started to line his eyelids.

“It’s okay,” Hank said, pulling Connor close. He wrapped his arms around the tiefling, suddenly very aware of his higher body temperature. It must have risen a few degrees with the anger that was just running its course.

He hardly noticed he was doing it, but Hank swayed back and forth slightly, almost rocking Connor as he sobbed. “It’s alright, let it out, son. It's alright.”

“I don’t want to go back,” Connor hiccuped. “I don’t-”

“I know,” Hank said, keeping his voice as soothing as he could possibly make it. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“But... They’re going to tear this city _apart-”_

“Do you want to turn yourself in?”

Connor hesitated, but settled on an answer. “I’d rather die with the humans than live among tieflings, but I wouldn’t rather the humans die.”

Hank frowned. That...was an awful situation to be placed in. What could be worse than choosing between two evils?

“Con’,” Hank said, pulling back to look his charge in the eye, “you know I’d take this from you if I could, but I can’t. And it doesn’t sound like you’re really ready to make a decision yet. So why don’t we go down and interrogate Markus ourselves? You can ask him all the questions you want, and then you can decide.”

“What’s the point?” Connor moped, eyes falling to the floor. “He’s just going to lie.”

“I dunno about that, kid,” Hank said. “I think you can trust him to tell the truth. Whether or not what he thinks he knows _is_ the truth is another story, but maybe you can fill him in. Maybe he has another option that you haven’t thought about yet.”

* * *

Getting into the dungeons wasn’t hard. Even as a paladin-in-training, Connor outranked everyone except full-fledged paladins and Fowler himself. (And the queen, of course.)

But Connor hated the thought of going alone. His demons were _actually_ half-demon.

He barely had to voice his fears before Hank was volunteering to go with him, offering to help him put his armor back on, and in less than a minute, they were back out again.

Again, they walked in relative silence, their armor clinking quietly as they marched in step out of habit. They walked past closed shops, the streets illuminated by streetlamps and nothing else - not even the stars were visible (assuming it was night - the darkness blocked out the entire sky, so they had lost track of time awhile ago).

Finally, they made it to the dungeon and descended into its depths with little fanfare. The guards were obviously curious as to why they were there, but Hank managed to get them to drop it and lead them to Markus’s cell.

They arrived at one of the lowest cells, which was shut and locked with a heavy metal door. Nothing short of an ogre or giant could get in or out.

“You guys can come back in an hour,” Hank said to the guards flanking the door. “We’ll holler if he attacks or some shit.”

The guards exchanged an uncertain glance, but they knew better than to question orders. They left, falling into step and going back up the way they came.

Connor took a shaky breath. He remembered his life before...before. He remembered how safe and happy he felt, but now those memories were poisoned. Now, he knew better.

He had never been safe.

He had never been wanted.

He had never been loved and protected.

When he had been in captivity, he had lost himself. Everything he knew about his life was wrong, and since he had defined himself by where he was and who he was with, he was suddenly without an identity.

He had worked _hard_ to build a new self on the ashes of his old life, and Hank had been the cornerstone of the new foundation. It was not even a question; he would choose Hank over the other tieflings any day of the week, no matter the circumstances.

Hank clapped him on the shoulder. “Ready?" The helmets were practical, and he would much rather Hank wear his than go without, but it was times like this that made Connor wish that he could see his friend’s face.

Connor nodded, and Hank moved forward, unlocking the cell. The metal door swung open with an echoing screech, letting what little light there was into the space. A wall of metal bars cut the cell in half, separating the prisoner from his visitors. Markus sat on the ground with his back against the wall, but he sat up straighter when the door opened.

Connor grabbed a nearby lit torch, looked at Hank once more, then ventured inside. A moment later, the door swung shut - Hank must have followed him in.

“Who are you?" Markus asked, standing so that he was at their eye-level.

Connor froze. He…hadn't thought about what he was going to say. He knew he _wanted_ to talk to Markus, that there were things he had to tell him, but...

Markus was a liar.

Connor took off his helmet, trusting the dim light and his own magic to hide his true identity. Judging from the lack of recognition in Markus’s face, it worked. “I was there when you spoke to Her Highness,” he said. “Were you telling the truth?”

“Yes," Markus said. A spark of hopefulness shown through his glowing eyes. “Yes- his name was Candor. His brothers chose virtue names, too - Noble and Steadfast. I…don't know their common names, but they-”

“Are you sure their intentions are honest?” Connor interrupted.

Markus frowned. “Of course.” A thought occurred to Markus. “Do you... Do you know where he is? The one we’re looking for?"

“What’s going to happen to him?” Connor asked. He was intent on providing no answers until his own questions were answered. After that...maybe.

“We’ll take him back with us,” Markus said, obviously trying to reassure him. “You won’t have to see any of us ever again.”

Connor’s heart sank. That was exactly what he was afraid of.

He straightened further (if such a thing were possible). “You should leave. Go call off your people. Your missing tiefling wants to stay here.”

A brief moment of shock took hold of Markus’s features, then he grit his teeth in anger. “You can’t make that choice. He is happier with us, with his people-”

“You don’t know that."

“Neither do you!” Markus countered. "You have no idea what it’s like, being one of us. They watch you everywhere you go, convinced you’ll steal something, or break something... You have _no idea_ what it is like for us.”

Connor clenched his fists at his sides, righteous indignation pumping through his veins.

“You’re right, I don’t,” Connor said. “I don’t know what kind of person could sell one of their own to a band of traffickers. I don’t know how they could manage to not care while his horns were half sawed off, then broken the rest of the way. I don’t know why they would let him rot as his blood was taken for potions, as he was whipped for entertainment... But I do know that tieflings lie. They lie, they cheat, and they see their own as property. And that’s the _only reason_ why they’re here, after all this time.”

Markus took a slight step back, his eyes wide. Then, a hesitant step forward. “Are...? You’re…?"

Connor let his illusion spell drop. He ignored that familiar twinge of fatigue in favor of clinging to the anger in his blood.

Markus shook his head in disbelief, his gaze never leaving Connor’s face. “No...no, that’s... Candor, you were never-”

“My name is _Connor_ ,” he snapped. “I am a paladin in training. I live with the humans, and as far as they know, I am one of them. I _like_ being one of them. I belong here. So you go back to Noble and Steadfast, and you tell them that I’m safe and happy here, and you _call them off."_

Markus’s face fell, his heart breaking. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“It won’t do anything,” Markus said. “They’ve been looking for you ever since you went missing. They love you so much-”

“So much that they are willing to destroy everything I care about?” Connor finished.

“They’re not going to turn around without finishing their mission,” Markus said, almost apologetically. “If you came with me...maybe explained what happened to you-”

“So that they could kidnap me and force me to go to Jericho with them?” Connor demanded. “So that your people can sell me again? No, I don’t think so.”

Connor turned on his heel and made his way to the door. Hank wordlessly shoved it open.

“Our people would never sell one of our own,” Markus called after him. “Whatever happened to you, it wasn’t their fault. Please, Candor, you have to believe me-”

“They’re your people,” Connor said bitterly, “not mine.”

And with that, he slammed the door shut.

For a few moments, he stood in silence, watching the door as if he expected it to open on its own.

Hank gripped the back of Connor’s neck, his leather gloves warm and comforting.

He had just forsaken his own people, but at least he still had Hank.

* * *

Two days of _nothing._

The darkness persisted, their supplies dwindled, and still the tieflings sat on the battlefield, watching.

The paladins took shifts, walking along the castle walls and peering into the dark as far as they could, but nothing changed.

Until it did.

There was no warning. All of a sudden, the darkness disappeared, and the humans were nearly blinded for a few minutes by the midday sun. As soon as they regained their sight, they were overrun by a surprise attack. Tiefling forces scaled the walls and swept through the city.

It was over in a matter of hours.

* * *

Connor grimaced as a blue-skinned tiefling forced him to his knees in the throne room. Beside him, Gavin received the same treatment (though with a lot less grace).

 _“Get your claws off me, asshole-_ ”

Hank was already in the room, though he was on the opposite side of the throne. His head wound had reopened, and blood was dripping down his face. However, to Connor’s relief, he didn’t seem to have any other grave injuries.

Connor’s heart beat with warmth when he noticed Hank was scanning him for injuries, too.

The sound of several pairs of boots marching pulled Connor’s attention away from his friend, toward the throne room doors, which hung off their hinges rather unceremoniously.

Six tieflings marched in, and Connor hated that he recognized them. There was an orange-skinned, gold eyed one leading the pack - North, the general. Closely behind her were two bluish-white tieflings, one taller and bulkier than the other - Noble and Steadfast. Markus was with them, the only one of the group not wearing armor - they must have just freed him from the dungeons down below. And finally, bringing up the rear were a light-green skinned tiefling and a red-skinned one - Simon, head of agricultural efforts, and Josh, head of history and culture.

Everyone important was here. If Connor wasn’t so full of rage and fear, he would feel flattered.

“North, don’t do this,” Markus pleaded. “This isn’t the way-”

“We won, Markus,” North said, stopping and turning back to look at him. “Kind of late to be surrendering, don’t you think?”

She turned back around and swept her eyes across the room. The only people present were the paladins (plus Connor), Captain Fowler, and the queen herself, though she was allowed to simply sit on the throne, with two tieflings at her sides. None of the paladins wore anything more than pants and the leather tunics they wore under their chainmail, their armor laying in a collective pile in the corner of the room.

“Where is he?” North yelled. Her voice rang through the hall.

No one said anything. Connor’s eyes flicked over to Hank, but Hank gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. _Don’t say anything._

Or, more likely, _Don’t do anything fuckin’ stupid._

“Markus told you what we want already,” North continued. “I’ve given you more than enough time to find him. So? _Where is he?”_

Markus was looking between Hank and Connor, but he said nothing.

But, of course, Gavin spoke up. “As we told your boyfriend, you’re in the wrong kingdom. There aren’t any tieflings here.”

North pulled a small dagger from a hidden compartment at her waist and crossed to Gavin in no more than four steps. She pressed the tip of the blade into the underside of Gavin’s jaw, drawing a bead of blood. “Care to repeat yourself?”

Gavin glared at the tiefling general, but said nothing.

North backed away and sheathed the knife. Her cat-like eyes looked at the other hostages in the room with a predatory glare. “Even primitive creatures like yourselves can understand that we have a goal,” she said. “Nobody else has to die today. Tell us where you’re keeping him, and we’ll spare you. Otherwise, we’re going to start narrowing down our suspects.”

At this, North took a sword from a nearby tiefling soldier. Connor’s gut clenched.

Markus reached for North’s hand. “Stop this. This is senseless. None of them know where he is.”

“They know,” North said. “They’re the highest-ranking officials in this city. They’ll talk. You just have to find the right _target!”_ Quick as lightning, she threw something - the small knife she had just threatened Gavin with.

Hank gasped.

Connor’s lungs froze.

There, embedded in the left side of the older paladin's torso, was the knife.

 _“NO!”_ Connor screamed. “No _no- HANK!”_

With borderline inhuman strength, Connor ripped out of the grip of the tieflings that were holding him down, throwing himself across the room to get to Hank faster.

Distantly, he registered someone giving orders, but he ignored them. Hank was injured; Hank would _die_ if he didn’t figure something out...

“Shit, that hurts,” Hank groaned, laying back on the ground.

Connor grabbed Hank’s hand and squeezed. “You’re gonna be alright, Hank. I’m... You’re gonna be alright."

But Hank was the one with the healing magic. Connor could block out the sun for a few minutes and hold a small illusion at his best...

And he could summon fire.

He ripped off a glove with his teeth and spat it to the side. Then, concentrating very carefully, he lit his palm on fire, tongues of his signature blue flame dancing across his skin and between his fingers.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice breaking. “This is going to hurt.”

Hank frowned and glanced up at Connor, about to ask what he meant by that, but instead, he screamed as Connor gently pressed his flame-covered fingers against the bleeding puncture in Hank's torso. Connor’s insides twisted, knowing that he could only save Hank by cauterizing the wound, but hurting him felt _wrong, so wrong wrong wrong wrong-_

As soon as Connor judged that the wound was closed, he yanked his hand away, extinguishing the flames as fast as he could. The pain had caused Hank to pass out.

But it was okay. Hank was going to make it.

He forced himself to look up at the others in the room. There was some variance, but the overwhelming emotion seemed to be shock.

They had connected the dots themselves; they knew he was a tiefling. There was no use in keeping up appearances now. He let the illusion spell drop, and his skin lost its humanish rosiness, switching back to his natural cloud-white and ocean blue.

But it was okay. Hank was going to make it.

Noble took a small step forward. “Candor?"

Connor squeezed Hank’s hand one last time, then let go and stood, turning to face the tiefling leadership. “If I go with you, do you promise you won’t hurt any more people? That we’ll just leave, _peacefully_?”

Noble frowned, but Steadfast hurried to agree. “Of course! Of course- _Candor-”_

Steadfast ran forward and threw his arms around Connor, hugging him tightly. Noble followed suit, his arms large enough to wrap around both of them.

“We missed you _so much,”_ Steadfast sobbed.

There was a time when this had been all he wanted: his people coming after him, his brothers breaking down doors to rescue him...

But that had been a different Connor.

Something in him had died when he was sold to the Rosebud, and something new had started when Hank had broken the lock on his cage and told him to “ _Hurry up - put on a disguise or something, we’re gettin’ outta here.”_

And now he was being taken from the life he had, _again._

He couldn’t stop the sob from escaping, couldn’t stop the tears as they spilled over his eyelashes and down his face.

“It’s alright,” Steadfast said, sniffling and completely misdiagnosing the source of Connor’s grief. “It’s alright. We’re taking you home, now.”

Connor’s hands shook at his sides, but he did not return the hug. He couldn’t.

It hit him just how selfish he had been. If he had turned himself over when Markus first showed up, he might have been able to spare his city the bloodshed it had seen, or he might have been able to save Hank...

He hoped Sumo was okay, wherever he was. If he... If he wasn’t, he would just hate himself all the more.

His brothers pulled out of the hug, the joy on their faces causing Connor's insides to twist further. He couldn’t look them in the eye - but it wasn’t as if it mattered. Noble and Steadfast were pulling him back towards their group, eyes bright and grins on their faces. They were talking with the other leaders, discussing how best to withdraw their forces. The three brothers would go ahead back to Jericho with Markus, while the rest of the tiefling forces scoured the kingdom to ensure the humans had no way of following them.

Connor remained silent, but he caught Markus’s eye. The ruler of Jericho was the only tiefling actually _looking_ at him, recognizing him as a person instead of the object that they had come to retrieve.

Then, they were moving, pulling Connor out of the throne room, away from the humans that had helped him build his identity.

He couldn’t look back at them, couldn’t bear to see the shock, or horror, or anger, or pity on their faces, if it was there.

As they moved through the hallway, Markus fell in step beside him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice quiet and mournful.

Connor looked at him, knowing that a simple “I’m sorry” was going to do nothing to ease the deepening hole of sorrow in his chest, but he found understanding in Markus’s eyes.

He had nothing. He was being taken away from his home, his family, _again,_ but at least Markus was willing to be with him in his grief. He had been alone last time.

Connor turned his eyes forward, steeling himself and staring straight ahead. “I’m used to it.”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND DOODLES. LOOK AT THEM ARENT THEY PRECIOUS  
> AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
> 
> The little "good job" kILLS ME. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
> 
> Friendly reminder to please go appreciate my artist partner! She deserves all the love and I'm sure she gets tired of me sending gifs of people screaming and emoji hearts. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
> 
> Instagram: @anouillh  
> Twitter: @anouiilh  
> DeviantArt: @ebenesloth


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